I’ve done it again. I lost something very important to me. I PANICKED!!!! I overcommited again and paid for it.
I started the day at Norm’s Coffee Bar with a friend who was attempting to teach me to crochet. I’m sure Jonah would call it “hooking”. It’s my second attempt. Maybe this time it will stick. Two needles just seems easier than one hook.
At 11:30, I realized I was late for my mentoring meeting, so I grabbed my stuff and ran. After meeting with my little girl, I stopped to get Dottie at the groomers, ran to KFC and drove home to take dad lunch before heading to my piano lesson.
I arrived there to find there had been a mixup in times and someone else was taking his lesson. I waited awhile and updated my phone calendar. When I sat down at the piano, I realized my lesson book was missing. It was the last book that I’d practiced and was most likely still on my piano. I had two other books so I played what I’d practiced and called it a day.
Running late again, I stopped at Sonic for my favorite 1/2 price drink, a diet cherry limeade, and headed to McPherson.
By now it was almost 4 PM. Why McPherson, you ask, so late in the day? Well, again I bit off more than I could chew. I’m in the middle of a two at a time toe up sock class. I was a bit lost and needed some questions answered.
I wanted to get home by 5:30 to walk the dog before dark so I knew it would have to be a quick trip. I parked the car, reached behind me for my Yarning bag. Couldn’t feel it. No problem. I was sure it was just somewhere else in the van. I got out, opened both side doors and started searching. I just knew it was in there. I looked under the same seats at least a dozen times, but no bag could be found.
So there I was, already late, in McPherson without my knitting. A fellow classmate was in the shop knitting her socks so I watched her, asked questions, and took notes.
By this time it was 5:15. Clouds were gathering in the west and I was at least 30 miles from home. I jumped back in the van and headed home, rejoicing that the speed limit was now 75 miles an hour, all the while thinking about where my knitting bag could be.
You see, my dad gave me the money for that bag. It was a one of a kind bag made out of a felted sweater. I fell in love with it because of its uniqueness, size, and unusual button. Its contents contained the hat I was knitting for my dad, my two at a time socks, and my beginning crochet project.
I figured it had to be somewhere at home but the problem was I couldn’t remember taking it into the house. I got home a few minutes after sunset, raced into the house to take a quick look around before walking the dog. NO BAG!!!!!!
On my walk I again hypothesized about the missing bag. Where in the world could it be?
Who would want to steal a bag that was made out of an old sweater with 3 half-finished projects?
I returned from the walk and started a late supper for the men in my life.
Then it hit me! What if I had left it at Norms? I had been in a hurry to get to my mentoring meeting. But surely the other ladies in my group would have seen it and called me. Could someone have stolen it from Norms?
Norms is a coffee bar opened only in the mornings except a couple of nights a week. I prayed. I called. No answer. I looked up the Norms hours on the internet. OPEN DAILY, except Sundays, at 6:30 AM. It was going to be a long night.
I called my piano teacher who is also my pastor’s wife to see if they knew the home number of the owner. Why call my pastor for the number, you ask. The owner of Norms is also a pastor and in my state of panic, I figured that our pastor MUST have all the other church pastors on speed dial. No such luck!!!
I tried Norms one more time. I prayed again. This time I got an answer. They were open from 7 to 10 on Thursdays and Fridays. I explained my situation. I described where I had been sitting. THEY FOUND IT… Right where I left it.
Miracle of miracles, it’s happened again. I can count on less than one hand the items I have lost and never found. It would take me both hands and feet plus probably all my husband’s extremities to count how many items I have lost, panicked, and eventually found what I was looking for.
It seems I have a very difficult time learning lessons God is clearly teaching me. Things happen over and over again, yet I continue in the same pattern.
Is it my overcommitment? Is it my frazzled brain? Right now at 12 AM, I’m going to blame it on one of many Senior Moments that are bound to increase if I don’t stop, listen, and learn what I’m being taught.